


Normality

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: lucissa, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9856232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: It was an illusion of normality. A fake sense of serenity. And yet, it was things like this that kept her going.





	

The water is the perfect temperature, not too hot yet not too cold. It emits a soft lavender scent, the smell tainting the air of the bathroom. Bubbles float above the purple tinted water, popping against the ripples Narcissa’s movements make.

She lies within the vast tub, her head resting on the porcelain edge. It is the most relaxed she has been in months, perhaps even years. The water embraces most of her body, the warmth of it sinking into her skin and ridding her of the bone deep chill that had settled there.

Lucius is beside her, outside of the bath. Her body is leant towards his, her eyes half open as she keeps her heard turned to look at him. He looks as exhausted as she feels, and it breaks her heart just that much more.

Lucius’ voice fills the room. It’s surprisingly soft; the tone she’d only ever seen him use with her and Draco. He reads from a warn copy of _Beedle the Bard_ , the one they’d read to Draco as a small child.

It was a ridiculous choice, she knew, but the book had caught her eye when he’d asked if she wanted his company. There was something soothing about it – something that made the troubles of the war vanish for just a moment. Something that allowed her to feel a childlike sense of serenity; where her biggest issue was the water cooling, not her family dying.

“ _There was once a handsome, rich, and talented young warlock_ ,” Lucius reads, and Narcissa smiles. _The Warlock’s Hairy Heart_ had been Draco’s favourite as a child, despite its gruesome qualities. “ _Who observed that his friends grew foolish when they fell in love, gambolling and preening, losing their appetites and their dignity_.”

“Sounds a bit like you,” Narcissa interrupts, laughing softly when Lucius stops to mock glare at her.

“I did not grow foolish,” he says, and Narcissa simply smiles; her eyes twinkling knowingly.

“No, of course not, darling,” she tells him. “You were already foolish.”

His glare intensifies, and the book half closes in his hand. “Is it too late for a divorce?” he asks, though Narcissa can hear the playfulness of it.

She pulls a face of faux outrage, pointing a finger at herself. “Me?” she says. “You should count yourself lucky that I’m still here.”

“Debatable,” Lucius shoots back, lips twitching. “You can be very mean.”

Narcissa laughs again, the noise a breathy puff of air, and settles back under the water. “Read the book,” she tells him, and Lucius complies; reopening the pages and clearing his throat before resuming the story.

The room fills once more with the sound of his voice, and Narcissa adjusts her position to a more comfortable one. She reaches an arm over the tub’s edge, her wet fingers seeking Lucius’. He takes hold of the offered hand without comment, intertwining their fingers together as he continues the story.

She knows, full well, that these moments are a mere illusion of normality. A short break in the chaos of the war to reminds themselves of what their life had been like beforehand.

And yet, despite the fake safety of it, she loves these moments. Adores them. They give her something to look forward to; a reason to ensure that she makes it to the end of this battle. That they both do.

And, as the familiar words of _The Warlock’s Hairy Heart_ fill her mind, Narcissa knows Lucius feels the same.


End file.
